Luck O' the Winchester
by KayValo87
Summary: The traditional St Patrick's Day celebration turns into a nightmare when one of the brothers inadvertently makes himself a target to a deadly trouble maker. Limp!Sam Protective!Dean
1. Chapter 1

**HAPPY ST PATRICK'S DAY ONE AND ALL!!!!**

This story is dedicated to LinkXZ, who told me the legend of the leprechaun. (Or at least enough of it to inspire this story.) Thanks dude. :)

Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. :)

**

* * *

Chapter 1**

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Sam felt something hit the back of his leg and responded by pulling the pillow over his head.

"Go away." He mumbled, trying to slip back into blissful oblivion.

But the grumpy order did not deter his overly cheerful brother and a second later he felt his blanket get ripped away.

"Come on, we're burning daylight."

Pushing himself from under the pillow, Sam glanced at the clock and shot his brother a dark glare.

"Dean, it's SIX in the MORNING!"

"And? We are almost four hours away from Anderson."

"Is there a hunt in Anderson?" Sam groaned, searching for his stolen blanket.

Dean paused his packing for a minute, tilting his head in a way that told Sam that, whatever was in Anderson, it wasn't trying to eat anyone. Finding his blanket in a heap on the floor, Sam pulled it back over himself and tried to go back to sleep. They had been up until midnight banishing a poltergeist and he just wanted a few more hours of rest … or at least he did before Dean flipped the mattress over.

"Dude!" Sam got to his feet, just about ready to pummel his brother.

"Great, your up." Dean grinned tossing him his duffel. "Get dressed, we leave in five."

Too tired to argue, Sam grudgingly went into the bathroom and took a shower. Pulling on a grey t-shirt and his brown hoodie, Sam went back into the main room of their current motel to find that Dean had already packed up all their stuff and was just grabbing the last of their bags.

"You ready?" He looked up and groaned. "Dude, seriously?"

"What?" Sam demanded.

Dean motioned to the green flannel shirt he was wearing.

"St. Patrick's Day, remember?"

Suddenly Dean's rush to leave made a lot more sense.

"There's a bar in Anderson isn't there?"

"McGee's Irish Pub." Dean answered with a grin. "It opens in three and half hours, so let's go."

Rolling his eyes, Sam went out to the Impala, tossing his bag in the trunk before slouching into the passenger seat.

"You know," Dean shifted his eyes from the road, "McGee's is supposed to have some unique beer. You think there is one that will get rid of buzz kill."

Sam didn't dignify that with a response. Bars and drinking were Dean's thing, he was more of a coffee and book store kind of guy. Leaning back as much as he could, Sam decided to try and get some sleep on their way. He knew they were four hours out, but with the promise of 'unique beer', he figure Dean might have them there in three.

*** * * * * * *  
**

Dean sped down the highway, keeping an eye out for his next turn. The d^$% poltergeist took so freaking long to hunt he had completely forgot what day it was until it was almost too late. St Patrick's Day was one of Dean's favorite holidays, right up there with Valentine's Day, Halloween, and Oktoberfest. Too bad Sam couldn't drink more then two beers without losing the ability to walk straight. Oh well, more for him.

They managed to get to McGee's just ten minutes after it opened.

"Sam." He smacked his brother's shoulder. "Wake up, we're here."

Sam grumbled and sat up, squinting at the bar across the street.

"Dean, why don't you go ahead, I'll just find us a motel."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, you go ahead." Sam motioned to the bar. "Have fun."

Even thought he knew Sam wasn't much for drinking, he still felt a pang of disappointment that he wouldn't be able to celebrate with his brother. Climbing out of the car, Dean leaned in the window while Sam scooted behind the wheel.

"Call me when your done." His younger brother instructed.

Dean nodded and pinched Sam's arm.

"Ow!" Sam half shouted. "What the h^$%!"

"That's what you get for not wearing green." Dean smirked.

"Very funny." Sam mumbled, pulling away from the sidewalk.

Crossing over to the pub, any disappointment or loneliness Dean felt was quickly forgotten, replaced by the company of beautiful women, gallons of green beer, and all the corned beef he could eat. This must be what heaven is like.

*** * * * * * *  
**

Sam pulled into a nearby motel and checked them in. Bringing their bags inside, he decided to check the local newspapers to see if there was any supernatural activity in the area. He was on his third site when he heard a crash coming from the kitchenette. Looking over his shoulder, he didn't see anything out of the ordinary, but since when did THAT mean anything? Realizing that he hadn't put any salt lines down, Sam grabbed his gun and went to check it out.

Glass crunched under his feet and Sam noticed the remains of the coffee pot scattered across the floor. Checking what kind of rounds where in his gun, Sam felt a little better knowing his clip was full of consecrated iron. Of course he would feel a LOT better it he knew what it was he was facing. Grabbing his EMF reader he did a quick scan of the room and came up empty.

"Okay, so it's not a ghost." He said, thinking out loud. "What else could it be?"

Heading back to the kitchen, Sam felt his feet get caught on something and fell straight into the broken glass, crying out in pain. Carefully getting to his knees, Sam scrambled onto the carpet and noticed what had tripped him.

"What the h^%&?"

His shoe laces were tied together. Wincing at the pain the movement cause, Sam attempted to untie them, but finding it nearly impossible with all the glass in his arms and hands, settled for kicking his shoes off and moving away from the glass. There was no way he would be able to take care of this thing by himself, he needed Dean. Looking around for his phone, Sam froze at the sound of a high pitched giggle. Turning slowly, he saw a man, about two feet tall, wearing a red coat with at least three dozen buttons and a pointed hat. The man gave him a wicked grin as he twirled a large piece of glass in his hand.

"Top 'o the morning to ya." He sneered, before throwing the shard straight for Sam's chest.

* * *

That's all for now. Oh yeah, and the %$^#& are there because I don't swear, but I can't accurately portray the Winchester without them swearing, so I have choosen to go the way of comics. Sorry if it bugs you, but that's just the way I write.

Anyway, I was GOING to make this a one shot, but I am beginning to think I am incapable of writing one of those. So, as it was with "Bad Mojo", please let me know how long you would like this story to be ...

Short ~ 12 chapters

Classic ~ 20 chapters

Special ~ 25 chapters

Please let me know while I get started on the next chapter. :)


	2. Chapter 2

I always seem to forget this part ...

**DISCLAIMER:** Neither the Supernatural characters or the pub they went to belong to me. (Yes, McGee's Irish Pub is a real bar in Anderson, SC) I don't own the Impala or hotel either ... not sure I WANT to own the leprechaun ...

Anyway, on to the part you REALLY want to read ...

**

* * *

Chapter 2**

Dean took a drink of his green beer, flashing one of his patented smiles at the redheaded twins that sat on either side of him.

"So, you two are completely identical?"

The pair giggled, sharing a knowing look.

"We have different birthmarks." Bretta whispered in his left ear.

At least, Dean thought it was Bretta. It might have been Breena.

"Wanna see?" The other asked seductively, nibbling on his right ear.

Man, he thought to himself, I love the Irish! But before he could even open his mouth, Dean was interrupted by his cell phone vibrating in his pocket. Checking the caller id, he flipped it open.

"Not a good time, Sam."

"Dean, I think I'm being attacked by a leprechaun!"

Dean gave the phone a puzzled look and put it back against his ear … the one that was not being whispered in by Bretta … or was it Breena?

"A leprechaun, huh?" Dean voice skeptical. "Did you steal his Lucky Charms or something?"

"I'm serious, man." Sam growled. "There is a leprechaun in the motel room and …"

Dean had a hard time hearing him, since Breena, or Bretta, was promising him a peek at her tattoo.

"Dean!"

"Okay Sammy," Dean started calmly, "I want you to take a deep breath, and tell me how much you had to drink."

"Dean, this thing is trying to KILL ME."

Something in his tone clicked and Dean forgot about everything around him. It was fear, something he never liked to hear in his brother's voice. Whether he was hallucinating or not, he knew he had to help him.

"Alright, I'll be right there." He promised. "Just tell me where you are."

"I'm at the Thunderbird-"

He was cut off by the sound of splintering wood and the line went dead.

"Sam!" Dean yelled into the silence.

Reminding himself that panicking wasn't going to help his brother, Dean forced himself to calm down. Shoving his cell into his pocket, Dean pulled a few bills from his wallet and slammed them on the counter. He had to get to the Thunderbird … the Thunderbird what?

"Tony." One of the girls whined, hanging on his arm. "I thought we were gonna go somewhere quiet."

"Sorry sweetheart, not today."

Sammy was in trouble, not even Aphrodite herself could distract him now.

"Listen," he continued, "do you know of a place called Thunderbird?"

"Like the car?" The other girl asked.

"Yeah."

"No." She shook her head. "Do you Breena?"

"No, I don't like cars."

Clearly he wasn't getting anywhere with these two, so Dean flagged down the bartender.

"Hey man, you know of any place called the Thunderbird?"

"There's the Thunderbird Motor Lodge not far from here." The man shrugged.

"Where?"

Dean got the directions and sprinted down the street. Thank God Sam had a closest hotel.

Bursting into the lobby, Dean realized he had no idea what room Sam was in. While deciding if he should pull a fake id, steal the log book, or kick down every door in the building, a voice broke through his thoughts.

"Can I help you?" The teenager behind the desk gave him a questioning look.

"I'm looking for my brother," He held his hand up a few inches above his head, "tall, shaggy hair, brown hoodie. Have you seen him?"

The boy nodded in recognition.

"Oh yeah, I remember him. Dude, that guy is freaking huge! I mean I've seen some big people, but THIS guy-"

"Yeah, I know," Dean interrupted, trying to keep the shreds of patience he had left intact, "what room?"

"22, upstairs and to the right."

He had barely finished giving directions before Dean was bounding up the stairs, hoping he was not too late.

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Sam scrambled back, using a broken table leg to try and combat anything the little creep threw at him. The wounds on his arms had reopened and soon not even adrenaline was gong to be able to keep him going. If only he could reach his cell phone. Swinging the leg like a bat, he knocked away an ash tray that was on a collision course for his head, and crawled as quickly as he could to the shattered remains of the bathroom door.

"Come on, come on." He murmured to himself.

He knew it was only a matter of time before the two foot son of a b&%*^ attacked again, but if he didn't let Dean know where he was, he was screwed.

"Yes!" He sighed, when his fingers wrapped around the cold plastic.

His relief was short lived when a pair of small hands wrapped around his ankle followed by a sharp pain in his calf. Sam looked down and saw the little man was biting him!

"Get off me you freak!" He shouted,.

Sam kicked out his leg, trying to free himself, but the leprechaun just smiled, digging his teeth and nails deeper into the hunter's leg. He could fell the fight draining out of him as the blood loss began to take it's toll. Sagging against the carpet, he felt his attacker release him just as dark spots began to cloud his vision. All he could do was lay there helplessly while the leprechaun move closer. Dean, he thought as darkness took him, where are you?

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Dean came to the locked door, kicking it in without a second thought, and felt his blood boil at the sight that greeted him. Sam was laying limp on the floor, covered in blood, with some kind of deranged munchkin leaning over him with a grin that would make Joker jealous.

"Get the h*$& away from my brother, you son of a b&$^#!" Dean yelled, simultaneously drawing his weapon.

The little man looked around, let out a high pitched giggle, and vanished. Keeping an eye out in case the freak returned, Dean rushed over to his brother, letting out a hug sigh of relief to find that he was still alive.

"D^%& it, Sam," he whispered, taking in his injuries, "what did that thing do to you?"

Realizing that the first aide kit was still in the car, Dean went into the bathroom to find some clean towels and froze. Shards of bloody glass coated the bottom of the sink. Returning to Sam, Dean examined the wounds on his arms, spotting several more pieces still embedded in his brother's flesh. Carefully wrapping the towels around the cuts Dean raced down to the car and back as fast as he could, not wanting to give the little b&s%a$d a second chance at Sam

After picking out the remaining glass, cleaning, and dressing the wounds on Sam's arms; Dean turned his attention to the leg.

"What the-" Dean looked at the bit mark in disgust. "These things better not have rabies."

Once all Sam's injuries had been assessed, Dean hauled his gigantic brother over to his bed and tucked him in. Not wanted to leave his brother for longer then necessary, he made quick work of fortifying the room and brought a bag full of weapons over to a chair by the bed.

"I'm not sure how to kill these things, Sammy," he said, loading one of his rifles, "but I'm gonna find out."

This thing had hurt Sam … now it had to die.

* * *

COMING SOON: More protective Dean and our favorite helper ... BOBBY! :)

Let me know what you think and I'll get started on the next one as soon as I can. (It may not come until tomorrow, since today is my birthday. Hoo-ya!)

BTW, the POV changes are marked by shamrocks (in case you couldn't tell). I had ment to put them in the first chapter, but after three hours of trying I just gave up. I didn't think of using letters in place of symbols until several hours later. Anyway, I hope you like them. :)


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry this took FOREVER to post. It wasn't that I was too busy or had too many stories, it was just because I had a hard tome figureing out how Bobby would react to "Sam was attacked by a leprachun".

I hope I did okay with it. Enjoy ...

**

* * *

Chapter 3**

Sam's first lucid thought was that there was something wrong with his arms. Opening his eyes he saw the clean white gauze that wound it's way from his palms to his elbows. How the- Dean. A small smile formed as he realized what must have happened. Dean found him. Dean saved him. Where was Dean? Pushing himself up, Sam suppressed a groan. He had managed to evade most of the glass missiles, but a lot of the heavier materials had met there mark … the bathroom door for instance.

"Hey hey hey, where do you think you're going?"

Dean slammed the hotel room door, dropping a paper bag on the counter and rushing over to Sam's side. He helped him ease back until Sam's shoulders were propped against the headboard.

"You went out?" Sam asked quietly, eying the bag.

"Just to get us something to eat." Dean assured him. "This McGee's place has some good food."

Sam nodded and looked around the room. The damage had been cleaned up and protective wards had been put on the walls. Could symbols keep leprechauns away?

"You gonna tell me what happened?" Dean questioned, grabbing the bag from the counter.

"I was looking for a new hunt and got attacked by a leprechaun."

"You SURE it was a leprechaun?" Dean handed him a Styrofoam container full of fish and chips. "I mean, it looked more like a midget anti-clause to me."

"Anti-clause? … In March?"

And Sam thought HIS theory was farfetched.

"Makes as much sense as a color-blind leprechaun." Dean shrugged, digging into his meal of corned beef, cabbage, and potatoes.

He had a point, but whoever heard of a short anti-clause with an Irish accent?

"You call Bobby?"

"Yeah, he'll be here in a couple of hours."

"Hours?"

Sam gave him a puzzled look. They were a full day's drive from Bobby's place, he couldn't have been out of it for THAT long.

"He was helping a friend in Knoxville."

Nodding Sam returned his attention to his food. If anyone could figure this out it was Bobby.

*** * * * * * ***

Dean typed away at the laptop, trying to find any information of two foot psychos. Not surprisingly he wasn't having much luck.

"How's the midget anti-clause theory going?" Sam called from the bed.

"Um … it's hit a snag."

"Yeah? Like the fact there has never been an attack in the history of man?"

"That's part of it. How's the colorblind leprechaun research coming?"

"Slow."

Sam griped the page between between his bandaged fingers and slowly turned it over. Turning back to his research, Dean checked another site. Still nothing. Come on, he thought to himself, there must be ONE recorded attack of the evil munchkin. But his search was interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Must be Bobby." He mumbled, getting to his feet.

He motioned to Sam to stay put, ignored his I'm-not-helpless look, and let the older hunter in.

"So what did you two get yourself into this time?"

"Wish we knew." Dean muttered. "Sam got jumped while I was at the bar."

"By what?"

"Dean thinks it was a midget anti-clause."

"Sam thinks it was a colorblind leprechaun."

Bobby looked from one of them to the other, then at the calendar.

"You idjits!"

"What?" The boys asked in unison.

"First off, there is no such thing as a midget anti-clause." He stated. "Second, what the h$%^ were you thinking Sam!"

Blinking in confusion, Sam looked from Bobby to Dean and back again.

"What did I do?"

"It's what DIDN'T you do." Bobby corrected. "Why the h^$% aren't you wearing green?"

"You've gotta be kidding me." Sam mumbled.

"THAT'S what this is about?!" Dean half shouted.

His brother almost died because of his choice in fashion? This was weird, even by THEIR standards.

"What did you think it was about?" Bobby countered. "St. Patrick's Day is the day the leprechauns run rampant. No wonder you got attacked."

"So he'll be fine if he is wearing green?" Dean questioned.

Bobby adjusted his ball cap and rubbed the back of his head. This didn't look good.

"Well … I'm not really sure. There isn't a whole lot of information on leprechaun attacks." He sighed. "What I DO know is they are almost like tricksters, they love deadly pranks, and they can't see you if you are wearing green."

Dean looked down at his shirt, remembering how the little b&s^a%d looked around when he came in. Grabbing his duffel, he pulled out a dark green button up shirt and brought it over to Sam.

"We still don't know if that will work." His brother muttered.

"It can't hurt." Dean shot back.

With Bobby's help, he managed to get Sam's bandaged arms through the flannel sleeves as gently as possible. No sooner had they leaned him against the pillows then a shrill laugh echoed through the room. Turning quickly, Dean saw the two foot attacker had returned.

"So, you thought you could fool ol' Rauri now, did you?" He giggled, his gaze moving about the room. "Well, think again."

Picking up a lamp he spun it on the tip of his finger before shattering it, sending the shards flying into the far side of the room. Dean held his breath, slowly pulling out his Colt 1911. He wasn't sure if it would kill it, but it would definitely make him feel better. Emptying half the clip into the son of a b^&$*, and the creature crumpled to the floor.

"That it?" Dean asked.

No sooner had the words left his mouth then the red haired freak leaped to his feet.

"Ah! So THAT'S were ya are!"

Seizing a vase, the leprechaun laughed, shattering the thing and sending porcelain missiles straight at them! Dean had only a split second to react, throwing himself over his brother right before the feel of a dozen daggers hit his back.

* * *

Again, sorry for the wait. I will try to get the next one up sooner.

In the meantime, let me know what you think. :)


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